


Trompe-l'œil

by appleapple



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Angst, Canon Compliant, Canon Era, First Time, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-30
Updated: 2014-10-02
Packaged: 2018-02-19 08:05:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 11,791
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2380973
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/appleapple/pseuds/appleapple
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He has never minded the bitterness at the bottom of the cup</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Present tense except when it's not. JUST GO WITH IT!
> 
> Messing with the timeline, to accommodate things. But nothing really drastically divergent from canon, I don't think.

He has never minded the bitterness at the bottom of the cup; the last dregs of beer, the final gritty mouthful of tea. Even as a child he was cynical. Pain and danger came more naturally to him than affection and comfort. He could understand them better. 

He has been ruled--too much, he has come to realize--by his passions. All of his great ambitions in life (except one) have been forged by negative emotions--anger, vengeance, pain. He has come to realize that nearly everything he wants in life is tainted by dark feelings. They have power over him. He had thought that they gave him strength. Now he is less sure.

Eren at nearly twenty is not the man he was at sixteen. No one could call him patient, but he’s less impulsive than he was, less quick to anger, less impetuous. But after three days of bad weather, and no rest or food he’s reached the limits of his own endurance. He grits his teeth against pain and exhaustion (the wounds that would normally heal on their own show no sign of improving. His body aches with the cold and his left leg is so swollen he doesn’t know if the boot will come off without cutting it) but he can barely keep moving. Most galling of all, Armin and Farrel are practically fresh by comparison. He hates being made to feel weak and helpless, but he feels so now. Armin and Farrel have been happily chatting about geometry and epistemology for days, while he lags behind, stupefied with pain and weariness.

Armin breaks off long enough from a protracted monologue about the nature of knowledge to turn to him and say, “It isn’t long now until the rendezvous.” 

It says something about his state of mind, he supposes, that Eren wants nothing more than to punch the friendly grin off of his best friend’s face. Instead he forces himself to smile--more of a grimace--and nod, as if nothing’s the matter. They were separated from the rest of Levi’s special squad days ago, by a Titan ambush. They had been travelling through rough terrain, and in such situations it was always Corp policy that Eren must flee to safety while the others covered him (another thing he despises, being protected rather than the protector).

The retreat had been chaos, and Eren, Armin, and Farrel had been separated from the rest of the group. He had expected Levi and the others to come galloping up from behind at any moment for the first 24 hours; then he had begun to worry. It wasn’t like them not to come after him at once. In such cases, procedure told them to meet at the nearest Survey Corp rendezvous point, and they were headed to a half-ruined castle stocked with supplies. Eren had been telling himself for days that the others would be there, but he was haunted by the nightmare that their only welcome would be a cold and empty ruin.

The rain worsens suddenly--they were wet before, but now they are soaked in the downpour. Armin and Farrel have fallen silent at last. They are all just pushing on now in miserable solidarity. Thunder rumbles somewhere, and the sky darkens threateningly. Then, in the distance, there--the castle!

Unconsciously they quicken their pace, taking heart from thoughts of shelter, dry clothes, and food, and after an endless interlude in which the castle seems to barely get any closer they are finally in the courtyard. Eren looks around him, dazed and bleary-eyed. There is Mikasa, he is relieved to see, and their other companions. But where is Levi? Armin and Farrel have dismounted and are heartily greeting the others. He’s ashamed to realize he won’t be able to get get down off of his horse without help, and he grips the reins tightly, furious with himself and his useless body. He puts an expression of studied indifference on his face, trying to pretend that it’s his own choice to stay on the horse, and willing his legs to move.

Strong arms come around his waist to help him to the ground, and he fights against the grasp, wounded in pride and dignity.

“Eren,” Levi says, “Quit it.”

He relaxes at once. “Oh, it’s you.”

Levi gives him a look that could be mild disgust; the others disperse, someone takes charge of the horses, and Levi helps him inside.

 

 

When he wakes, hours or days later, the rain hasn’t stopped but now it’s a distant cosy patter against the castle walls, rather than a harsh soaking reality. He’s warm and dry and for a long time he luxuriates in that, appreciating it in a way he never has before. There’s a fire in the grate that someone has recently poked into liveliness, and a tray of food has been left for him. He’s alone, and for that he is grateful.

An hour later, and he’s finished the last crumb of food. The door opens and Levi enters with a pail of water, presumably for him to wash up with. He notes the empty tray. 

“Are you still hungry?” he puts the pail down, and not waiting for a reply he says, “Wash up, you smell terrible.” He turns and leaves.

When he comes back Eren has made himself presentable, and he’s feeding the fire with small twigs. Levi sits down beside him, and not speaking he begins to toast the bread. Something almost unrecognizable bubbles up within Eren’s chest--happiness? He wants to laugh, but he stays quiet.

Eren makes a second meal of toast and butter and honey and jam, while Levi picks at a piece of toast and drinks tea. He is even quieter than usual tonight. Eren’s too pleased with life--really almost bubbling over with the pleasure of being warm and dry and alive and in good company--to mind.

Levi pours himself another cup. The fragile china seems to rattle in its saucer, and Eren looks at it curiously. The Captain’s hands are as still and calm as ever.

Levi sighs. “To hell with it,” he says, resigned. Then he grasps Eren by the wrists and pulls him close, kissing him ferociously.

This is the secret wish granted; the one Eren has barely been able to admit to himself. It’s not like how he imagined--how could it be? All his daydreams and fantasies revolve around violence and killing and revenge. There’s never been a place in his life for idle romantic reveries. Any thought of the Captain--of Levi--in this way has been fleeting and furtive, only glanced at in the corner of his subconscious. Or it’s come at night...come to him in dreams that he has no control over.

But being totally unprepared isn’t enough to make him hesitate--he goes more than willingly into Levi’s arms, and he’s the one that pulls Levi down, so that they are rolling around on the rugs before the fire. He’s the one that strips off his shirt first, and he’s the one that gets his hands under Levi’s waistband to touch bare skin. He doesn’t bother thinking about any of this. Levi’s kisses grow only more fervent and encouraging, until he’s straddling Eren, nearly naked, and Eren’s arching up beneath him aching and longing for--what, exactly?

Levi kisses along Eren’s neck. Eren’s breathing is sharp and ragged. 

“I’m going to fuck you,” he says. “That’s what you want, isn’t it?”

It wouldn’t be fair to say that; the truth is, before this moment, he’s never even thought about it. But now the thought, the idea of it, fills his mind.

“Yes,” he says eagerly, arching up, and it’s the truth.

 

 

Time passes. Far from the overconfidence he felt during their first encounter, a chill sets in; each time Levi invites him to his bed he’s afraid it’s going to be the last. Nothing in Levi’s behavior gives him cause to feel this way--but nothing Levi says or does encourages him to take the opposite view. 

If he had thought about this at all before (which he hasn’t) he would have said that there would have to be some increase of feeling in a liaison (relationship) like theirs--that eventually (it’s been a year) something must give way--hands brushing in the hallway, a hidden kiss pressed in a dark corner, a shared smile across the dinner table. 

There’s nothing of the sort. Levi is as inscrutable as ever. If, after some particularly harrowing experience in which one or both of them is nearly killed, he is more eager (affectionate) than usual when they go to bed, Eren chalks it up to Levi’s happiness at still being alive, rather than any particular concern for his own well-being.

It isn’t that he doesn’t want to believe that Levi cares for him; he does. More than anything. For the first time in his life he has a desire that’s stronger than revenge or escape or flight or freedom. It’s...well, he cares about Levi. That’s all. And he wants to be cared about in return.

He isn’t expecting romance. ( _Romance?_ From _Levi?_ ) But as satisfying as things are between them physically he wants something--something more. He isn’t sophisticated or experienced enough to put it into words, even to properly explain it to himself. There is a vague muddle when he thinks about it--what does he want, really? And yet when he sees Armin or Mikasa with the lovers they’ve taken--sees them holding hands when they are off-duty, or shared private laughter during a meal--it takes all his self-control not to cast a ridiculous hang-dog look at the happy couple in question.

He tries to play it cool with Levi. Hell, Levi won’t even go out of his way to sit with him at meals most days, preferring the company of Hanji or Erwin or the other senior officers. It isn’t that Levi is being cruel or callous. It’s just that, outside of bed, he behaves towards Eren just as he always has. 

He should just be happy, and accept things as they are. He might have even been able to, were it not for the gnawing fear that dogs him whenever they are alone together. Will this be the last time? It’s stupid of him, to worry about it so much. If Levi has cared to continue for this long, why should he constantly second-guess him?

Yet every time a few days pass without Levi sending for him, encouraging him into bed, he falls into a hopeless despair. He knows how childish it is. He wishes he could just reach for Levi, the way he wants to. But the fear that he will be rejected paralyzes him. He can imagine Levi turning away from him--in annoyance or disgust--and it cuts him to the bone. No. He can’t possibly ask for more than Levi is willing to give. And so he lets Levi initiate all their encounters, meanwhile living in a frustrated daydream of lust and paranoia.

It’s exhausting. He hasn’t told anyone, not even Armin, about this. He keeps his secrets to himself, and he thinks he’s been discrete enough that no one could guess. He only ever goes to Levi’s bed, never the reverse. And he’s always back in his own bed before dawn. Levi never insists upon this, but Eren assumes it’s what he wants. Certainly he’s never asked Eren to stay. So he tries his hardest to be very grown-up and sophisticated about it all, treating it like a casual affair, even though inside his heart is breaking.

Hanji eats dinner with him one night when Armin and Mikasa have been sent out on patrol. She spends the evening telling him gruesome anecdotes about Titan biology, but he’s so used to this that it doesn’t even affect his appetite. Somehow the conversation moves on to Levi; Hanji tells some story of when they were both green recruits in the Corps.

“--there was a very pretty girl there, I think he liked her, but nothing ever came of it. It’s funny, come to think of it, he hasn’t had a lover in years.”

“Excuse me, sir, but how would you know?” Eren asks, amazed at how casual his voice sounds. He turns the spoon in his teacup as if the answer means very little to him, and he’s just making friendly dinner conversation. “It always seems like Captain Levi plays his cards so close to his chest.”

“Ah, but I’ve known him a long time. We have a certain understanding, you see. I knew about the last one, but that was years ago. It did go on for quite a while, though.”

From there it’s easy enough to change the subject; there is a rumor that two of the younger recruits plan to marry and Eren wonders aloud what Hanji thinks of this. He lets Hanji steer the conversation, inevitably coming back to her study of the Titans, and after twenty minutes he judges that it’s safe to make his excuses. 

Back in his room, blessedly alone, he kneels next to his bed and puts his face into his pillows and sobs. He’s too overwhelmed to even trouble being ashamed by the tears. There’s a crack in his armor now. All the long-repressed nervous tension of the last year has found an outlet. Bless Hanji; clueless though she is, she’s given Eren the biggest piece of evidence that Levi does care about him.

If it’s been years since Levi’s taken a lover then this can’t be as casual and meaningless to him as Eren supposed; Levi wouldn’t have taken him to bed without a better reason than mere lust. If it were only that he could have his pick of bed partners. And if he stayed constant to his last lover, at least for a few years, then there is hope for Eren as well. 

Something almost like relief settles over him, and he stays there quietly for a long time, breathing into the clean linen of his pillows.

The door opens. “Eren…” Levi’s voice, sounding almost concerned.

Eren sits up in a hurry, turning to the wall and wiping his face roughly.

“It’s nothing, sir, I’m fine--” he babbles, willing Levi to go away.

Instead Levi comes to sit on the bed beside him, very close, and Eren stares woodenly at the wall. 

_No, no, oh Levi just go--_ he thought furiously. He knows he’s too fragile right now to put on his usual show of lighthearted enjoyment. He’s dangerously close to another outburst of tears, and he can picture Levi’s disgust at such a display.

“Please, sir,” he says, very quietly, after a few minutes of silence. Neither of them has moved. He’s still staring at the wall, and he can’t even see Levi out of his peripheral vision. He never calls Levi ‘sir’ if they are alone; hopefully Levi will get the message, will understand that this is nothing to do with them (it is), that it’s something else entirely and they would both be better served if Levi would just leave him in peace.

“Please, just leave.”

“Why?” Levi asks, sounding genuinely curious. As Eren struggles to think of an answer, Levi picks up his hand and kisses his palm, pressing his mouth tenderly to the sensitive skin there.

He’s too shocked to speak. Levi has never done that before.

“Aren’t you getting sore from kneeling so long? Why don’t you come and sit on the bed?”

Again, sounding merely curious. But Eren obeys as if it has been a command. He lies next to Levi and kisses him, and Levi kisses him back. Far from weeping, he begins to feel a kind of cautious joy; Levi has never embraced him with so much affection _(love)._ Is it possible he has divined Eren’s mental state--is this some kind of belated reassurance? As Levi presses kisses along his belly he’s beginning to think so. 

Usually it’s all passion and fire between them--Levi’s never taken the time to do this, to go slow and achingly sweet. It’s too much--like a kind of silly dream after all his earlier anxieties and worries. _Neurotic,_ he scolds himself, annoyed, _just enjoy it, can’t you?_

Then, a miracle: Levi, kissing along his neck, nibbling, then biting; hard. 

“Ow!” Eren complained, arcing away.

“Quiet,” Levi said. “This,” he kissed slow, dragging lips and tongue and teeth across Eren’s neck, “is mine. I’ll bite if I want to.”

Eren shuddered, almost coming right then and there. _This is mine._ The words feel seared into his soul. Levi runs a hand over him, gripping his erection through the soft fabric of his underwear.

“Eren,” his voice is very low, heavy with lust, and Eren can’t help shivering responsively. “You’re very wet, already.” He ran his thumb over the wet spot above Eren’s cockhead.

Eren moaned.

“You like this.” It’s half-statement, half-question. Levi’s still kissing and nibbling at his neck, still rubbing his aching cock through his underwear.

“Tell me. Tell me or I’ll stop.”

 _“Yes, yes, yes,_ I like it, Levi please, _please_ don’t stop.”

They haven’t done this before. A year of sex, blow-jobs, fucking, they’ve done all that, quick and dirty, but not this. Not slow and long and drawn out, not with Eren half-in and half-out of his clothes, shivering and shaking and loving every second of it.

It’s strange because he feels vulnerable but not exposed. He feels safe. Levi is taking care of him. When Levi finally slips his hand under the waistband of Eren’s shorts, gripping him skin to skin, still kissing his neck, Eren comes almost immediately and he comes hard. He’s still seeing stars when Levi has him undressed and starts fucking him, heedless of the mess. 

And that’s how he has the two best orgasms of his life, within twenty minutes of each other.

Afterwards he’s so worn out from everything all he can do is lie there and pant. He wonders if he should feel ashamed for carrying on so much. But then, Levi liked it, Levi was encouraging him, egging him on all the time. But if that’s what Levi has wanted from the beginning, why didn’t he just say so? Eren’s always been compliant, he would have gone along with it, especially once he realized that this would be the result. He’s getting shivery all over again just thinking about it.

Levi’s lying next to him, seemingly just as sated, his arm thrown over Eren’s belly. For all appearances he’s indifferent to the sweat and fluids they’re covered in. Eren wonders if he should get up...but this is his room...where would he go?

When he wakes up, it’s morning. Levi is still there, asleep and breathing deeply. He blinks several times in surprise. Perhaps Levi can feel Eren watching him; after a minute or two he yawns and stretches. 

“Damn, I’m a mess,” he complains mildly. “And you smell. You need a shower. I meant to tell you, Eren, you look terrible when you cry. I don’t know if you think you are one of those people that look cute when you cry; you’re not. Don’t do it in the future.”

“Yes, sir.” Meekly.

Levi cleans himself up as much as he can with the limited supplies in Eren’s room, grumbling and complaining to himself. When he’s dressed he comes back to the bed, then he sits beside Eren and kisses him, first up one side of his neck and then down the other.

“Remember,” between kisses, “this is mine.”

 

 

If there was ever an improvement upon those other three words then it is these three: _This is mine._ No matter how often Levi says it Eren never fails to respond. And Levi must like the reaction he gets; otherwise, why would he keep doing it?

Things change, although Eren doesn’t know why. He’d like to think that Levi is coming to care for him more. But if he’s honest, Levi is really still behaving the same to him as he was before, everywhere except in bed. And even now, it is only that he’s grown more talkative. If anything it’s Eren that’s changed more than Levi.

After that night, the next time Levi indicates that Eren should come to his bed he’s brave enough to attempt to stay the night. Of course, he’s so nervous that he gets almost no sleep. He keeps changing position trying to get comfortable, then freezing when he thinks he might wake Levi up and get tossed out. It doesn’t happen. The sun comes up and he’s still there, and Levi hasn’t told him to take a hike. He has a crick in his neck from all the tossing and turning but he’s almost beside himself with happiness.

Even then, he doesn’t have the boldness or the courage to go further. It still has to be Levi who initiates. He feels less nervous all the time, but the fear of rejection hasn’t gone away completely.

Inevitably, Armin and Mikasa notice him mooning about after Levi. Mikasa doesn’t come right out and say anything--he doesn’t think she knows about them, but she has made reference to Eren spending a lot of time ‘alone’ (his excuse whenever he’d prefer to be with Levi than with them). There’s an energy crackling between himself and Mikasa; it almost leads to a fight until Armin steps in to smooth things over.

So things go on, better than before, and most days Eren would even say he’s content. It can’t last, of course. In this world, nothing good can last.

 

These are the facts. Levi is lying in the bed. He is awake. He is staring at the ceiling. The doctor has just left the room. His back is broken. He cannot use his legs. This is the first time Eren has been alone with him since the accident.

He has been in the bed for two weeks. The doctor has just told him that if he was going to improve, it would have started happening by now.

“You should have left me there to die,” Levi snarls at him. 

Eren has never heard him so angry. Levi rarely speaks with any emotion at all in his voice, except irony. His fury is cold, intense, and nasty. It is the equivalent of another man’s bellow.

“I didn’t come here to argue with you,” Eren says, and he’s impressed by how calm he sounds.

“No,” Levi spits out bitterly. “Why did you come then? To say goodbye?”

Eren forces himself to walk to the bed; it is terrifying hearing so much anger and raw emotion in Levi’s voice. He has to force himself to appear much calmer than he actually feels. He drops a book by Levi’s head. 

He has spent the past two weeks, aided by Armin, searching every bookstore and library within the walls for a copy of this book. 

“A bedtime story? Thanks, Eren, but I think I’d rather make a noose out of my bedsheets.”

“Stop feeling sorry for yourself,” Eren forces himself to say, feeling horrible. Levi stiffens; that’s struck a nerve. “It’s pathetic,” he continues. Levi, I’m so sorry. “My father was a doctor. I suppose you remember that. There was an old woman in our village who was paralyzed by a stroke. She lived by herself, and she didn’t have any children, or any family to care for her. She asked my father to kill her. 

“My father couldn’t do that. First do no harm. Instead, he went every day to her house, for six months. He brought this book. By the end of the winter, she could walk to the well and draw her own water, and she could shop for food, and cook it. She could wash herself and brush her hair. And she was an old crippled woman.

“You’re a young man. You’re the strongest man I’ve ever met. If you’re not walking again in six months, then it won’t be because you can’t, it will be because you didn’t care enough to fucking try.”

“Fine. Good story. Still sounds like a fairy tale.” Levi is all bravado, but Eren has noted the shaky thread of hope in his voice. One of his hands has drifted near the book.

“What have you got to lose by trying?”

“The doctor said it was a hopeless case,” Levi said, but Eren can hear his resolve weakening.

“I suppose he’s the best doctor they have. But he’s not a better doctor than my father.”

Levi’s hand has finally touched the book. He looks up at Eren, challengingly. “You aren’t a doctor.”

“No, I’m not. But my father took me with him. I’ve read the book. And I’m a stubborn bastard.”

Levi smiles, reluctantly. It’s one thing he can’t argue with.

“Shall we begin?” Eren asks.

The book is filled with information; anatomical drawings, pressure points, diagrams of massage, exercises. All of it written to inform a single purpose; to get muscles moving again that have stopped moving. To retrain the body, and the mind.

For two weeks Eren has to fight Levi. Levi’s read the book, but he’s skeptical. He thinks his own case is hopeless. Even the book says not everyone can recover, he points out to Eren.

Eren ignores him. For two hours every morning he massages Levi’s head, arms, back, legs, hands, and feet.

“Why are you doing that? Those aren’t the broken parts.”

“The book says to. Your body isn’t a series of discrete parts. It’s a whole that works together. Your arms are linked to your back, your shoulders, your shoulders and back to your legs, and so on.”

“It’s a waste of time.”

For two hours in the evening he returns to do the same thing. It’s a constant battle, a battle of wills, but Eren carries the day. He’s fighting for Levi, after all. He’d fight a hundred times harder than this.

After two weeks Eren is going through his regular routine in the morning. 

“Eren.”

“Mmm,” Eren says, focusing on the muscle group, prepared to argue the usual arguments with only half his attention while he takes care of this.

“Eren. You’re touching my left foot.”

Eren stops for a moment, then squeezes very, very hard. 

“Ow,” Levi deadpans. Then he gets very quiet for a while, and presses his face into his pillow.

Afterwards Eren is seriously tempted to throw that long ago statement, about certain people not being very attractive when they cry, back into Levi’s face, but eventually he decides to save it for another time.

Sensation comes and goes, but at least once a day Levi says to him, “You’re touching my toes. My left leg. My right thigh.” 

He’s never wrong. He’s more eager for all of it now--the massages, the exercises, the training. Now that the progress is tangible he’s willing to do anything. Usually at the end of the day Eren is more exhausted than Levi.

Neither of them raises the issue of bringing in anyone else to help. Eren, because he guesses that Levi wouldn’t be comfortable with anyone else seeing him this vulnerable, and Levi because he seems to see Eren almost as a lucky talisman now. 

Eren brought him this far. Eren has the book practically memorized. No one else in the entire kingdom, for all they know, has any knowledge of this subject. And Eren is slowly figuring out what works and what doesn’t with Levi’s body--he can read between the lines, and he’s gaining real knowledge of what works, not just mindlessly following the diagrams on the pages.

They don’t tell anyone except Erwin what’s really going on, and when Levi discusses it with him he is pessimistic about their chances of success. Erwin allows it, of course. He grieves Levi’s loss on a personal level much more than a professional one. Eren cynically thinks he’s encouraging them mainly to keep them both busy and out of trouble; but whatever the reason he’s been given unfettered access to Levi and limited responsibilities elsewhere, so he can hardly complain.

Mikasa is worried about him. Armin has learned by now to avoid talking about Levi with Eren at all. After months of hinting about it, Mikasa comes right out and tells him he’s spending too much time with the older man.

It ends with them having the biggest fight they’ve ever had. Vindictive, yelling, name-calling. It isn’t something Eren feels good about afterwards. He curses his own hot-temper. He knows Levi would be ashamed of him, if he’d seen that display, and he wants to apologize to Mikasa, desperately, but at the same time he’s also bitter and hurt. 

Mikasa and Jean have been together for some time now. She doesn’t have to hide her relationship from the world. Jean is proud to be with her. Anyone would be. Mikasa is the best soldier in the corp, apart from Levi (and she is the best, unquestioningly, with Levi out of commission.) Eren’s just an out-of-control freak (a freak who got Levi’s entire squad killed) with no better handle on his emotions after six years of military service than he had when he was an angry, rage-filled child. It’s no wonder Levi has no interest in acknowledging him to the world, publically or privately. (Hanji’s words, once so comforting, have become a kind of double-edged sword. Levi’s a very private person, but now that Eren knows that he has admitted other relationships to her he can’t help but wonder, well, why not him?)

He spends the day, between his sessions with Levi, feeling very self-indulgently sorry for himself. He forgets that he does have friends, new and old, that he is a valued member of the corp, that he could easily make up his quarrel with Mikasa if he wanted to, that Levi would very likely have some good advice for him if he bothered to ask him. He feels all alone in the world, and doesn’t feel any better after licking his wounds for a few hours.

The truth is, he’s still a young man. The Survey Corp has sheltered him from a dangerous world but at the same time it has kept him away from huge chunks of life. It’s a source of constant jealousy and irritation that the newest recruits have more freedom than he does. He’s still forbidden from going anywhere by himself, for fear of kidnapping--from either side. He hasn't even had the same experiences that every other soldier his own age has had. He knows he's too innocent--that he's out of his depth with Levi. He always has been.

Hiding his relationship with Levi--such a big part of his life--is exhausting even normally. The last few months have been anything but normal. He’s needed to be there, for Levi to lean on, with no one to lean on himself.

Levi knows that something is wrong at once, of course. When Eren arrives for their evening session the misery’s written all over his face. 

“Eren, wait there,” Levi says. “Stand by the wall. I need to tell you something.”

Eren obeys, but he’s quivering with tension. He’s going to go and drown himself in the fountain in the courtyard outside if Levi has turned on him as well.

Levi sits up and throws the blankets off of his legs, and Eren watches gape-mouthed as he turns his body so that his legs are hanging off the bed. Then he stands up.

Eren feels light-headed. All he can do is watch.

Levi takes a step towards him, then another. His hands are out at either side, and sometimes his fists grip the empty air. His legs are steady. One more step, then another. Eren hasn’t moved but Levi is close enough to touch now. 

Another step--his legs give out, but Eren is right there to catch him around the waist. He’s laughing--they both are--laughing and crying with delight, as proud as any parent seeing their child take its first steps. He kisses Levi impulsively. He can’t help it. It’s the first time they’ve kissed in months--since before Levi’s accident.

Levi returns the kiss--it’s sweet but chaste--and then he pulls back, a slight smile on his face.

A flurry of questions: _How long? A month. Didn’t you fall? Don’t you think I can pick myself up again? When did you first-- Just now. I’ve never made it that far before._

He wants to say ‘I love you.’ He’s never wanted to say it so badly before. With a sudden pang he realizes it’s also been months since Levi has said ‘This is mine’ and kissed along his neck--and he wonders if he’ll ever even hear those words again. 

To cover for himself he helps Levi back to the bed; Levi feels wonderfully strong and hale in his arms.

“What’s the matter.”

“Nothing,” he says, knowing instantly that Levi will get the truth out of him. He decides to tell the least painful part of the whole; “Mikasa and I had a fight.”

“Hmph. She cares about you. More than you deserve, really. You should be nicer to her.”

“Why do you think it was my fault--!”

“I know you, dolt.”

More wounded than he would normally be by Levi’s sharp tongue he retreats to the foot of the bed. “Shall we begin?” he asks coolly.

Levi looks amused as he rolls himself onto his stomach; Eren can’t help but be hurt and angry. _I almost told him I loved him! I wonder what his witty response would have been to that._

He’s always told himself he doesn’t want romance from Levi. He doesn’t expect anything. His love for Levi took root in thin soil, but it’s bloomed all the same, and the imagined rejection cuts deeply. 

Even though Levi has just walked for the first time since the accident, apart from that it’s not a very satisfactory evening. Eren’s last thought as he leaves, Levi humming softly to himself and reading through the book, is _Soon he won’t need me at all._

At the end of six months Levi can walk, and he gets on horseback. At the end of nine months he and Eren go to one of the Corp’s training camps. Erwin tries to get another chaperone or two included in their little trip; Levi flatly refuses. 

Eren stands nearby, uncomfortably watching the two men argue wordlessly. He and Erwin have known each other such a long time that they can do this. Finally Erwin gives way. They take their leave of him; the warnings and entreaties to be careful are almost audible, for all that Erwin says them silently. 

Outdoors. He’s seen very little of the outside these last few months and he tilts his head up, enjoying the fresh air and sunshine. As soon as they get close Levi says, “Let’s switch,” and Eren nods.

They use the maneuver gear to launch themselves through the trees, and Eren enjoys this too. He’s been out little enough himself lately, only when Armin or Jean can coax him out for some training, and he stays slightly behind Levi, enjoying the sight of him moving swift and graceful through the trees even more.

He never doubted that Levi would walk again, but it’s a thrilling relief to see him moving around as if the last nine months have been nothing but a bad dream.

Eren stands back when they get to the camp, and watches Levi go through drills textbook perfect. He doesn’t think Levi should be able to do this. He’s gotten his strength back, he’s exercising for hours a day, and he’s even used the maneuver gear. But this--Levi is almost inhuman. He should be rusty. He isn’t. His body remembers this perfectly, and though Levi’s face is composed Eren can see the fierce, quiet joy shining out of him. 

After an hour or so Levi’s nearly out of gas. He lands on the tree branch Eren has been standing on all this time, and takes a half step forward. 

He’s still holding his blade in his left hand. His expression is terrifying. He looks as though he’s going to kill Eren right here--or just take him right in the middle of the woods. Eren takes a half-step back without thinking.

Levi smiles (dangerous, predatorial) and opens his left hand. The blade falls softly to the grass below and Levi comes closer, until Eren is pressed back to the bark of the tree, with Levi pressed against him. He moans and bends his left knee so he can wrap it around Levi’s body, grinding his crotch against the smaller man. He usually isn’t so wanton; right now he can’t help it. It’s been so long since Levi’s touched him like this. He knows Levi well after all these years, and he can tell Levi’s slightly take aback by his response, but that he’s pleased. He feels like Levi taking him here and now is a better and better option.

“Later on,” between kisses, “I’m going to take you apart. Piece by piece. Understand?”

 _“Yes, yes,_ oh yes.”

Take me apart right now, is what he wants to say, wildly, clinging to Levi. He can imagine it; Levi taking off his clothes and gear, letting each piece drop to the ground below until he’s naked…

Levi steps back. Eren looks at him with undisguised disappointment; Levi smiles.

“Erwin’s outside. Go and tell him I’m ready. And tell him I need more gas.”

Eren goes, wondering how Levi knew that the commander would be waiting. He’s there though, just as Levi predicted, and he gives Levi the replacement gas. The two men don’t really speak, but they’re looking at each other with unequivocal happiness. It makes Eren feel jealous and left out. Should he just leave?

Levi goes through the drills again, every movement perfect and precise. When he’s through the two men shake hands, and Erwin’s eyes are warm and affectionate. _(How do you feel? Excellent, excellent. We’ll set a date for you to return to active duty…)_

He can’t help but feel unnecessary. He hangs back on the return to base. Levi and Erwin have a lot to talk over.

Before dinner though Erwin seeks him out; he shakes hands with Eren and thanks him for all that he’s done for Levi.

Eren’s embarrassed.

“Really sir, I didn’t do anything. It was all the Captain’s own work.”

It isn’t the last time someone thanks him that night. The rumor’s already going strong that Levi is back--that he’s recovered completely from his injuries, and no one in the Survey Corp is stupid enough to miss that Levi’s recovery has something to do with Eren’s daily visits to his room. As rumors go, it’s surprisingly accurate--they all assume that Levi and Eren have been training together. And, unlike Levi, no one’s afraid to question Eren.

He gets tired of repeating himself. He barely eats anything, but it’s still hours before he can escape from the dining hall.

Levi’s alone in his room. Shirtless. Reading. He doesn’t look up when Eren comes in.

“Oh. You’re here. It took you so long I thought you weren’t coming.” He turns a page. “I was just going to tell you I have a headache anyway.”

Eren’s frantically ripping off clothes until he’s just in his shirt and pants, and he launches himself at the bed, burying his face in Levi’s lap and forcing the book aside. He’s laughing.

“In that case,” he says, “I’ll just lie here next to you and touch myself and occasionally look over at you and sigh--”

Levi is shaking with silent laughter.

“You probably would, too--”

He wraps himself around Levi’s body; Levi’s kissing him but it’s not enough, he kisses back furiously, wanting every part of Levi touching him.

“Ow!” Levi complains. “What are you in such a hurry for?”

“What do you think,” Eren says between kisses. “It’s been almost a year--”

“A year since what?”

That’s enough to get Eren to stop, and look at Levi, doing the best imitation he can of the look Levi gives him when he’s done something stupid.

“Your accident.”

“That was nine months, not a year. Oh. I suppose you mean almost a year since you’ve had sex.”

There’s something odd and offhand about the way Levi says it, and Eren notices but doesn’t pay attention. He’s busy with other things. Levi’s on top of him, and he puts an elbow on the bed, his hand under his chin, and looks down at Eren. He’s gone soft all of a sudden, and while normally Eren could appreciate that it isn’t really what he wants at the moment.

He’s surprised when Levi says, softly, “What do you want?”

Eren gives him a look that’s equal parts affection and annoyance. “You said,” he complained, “you were going to take me apart.”

“I forgot. Literally or figuratively? My blades are over there.” Levi looks vaguely in the corner of the room, and Eren makes a disgusted noise and pulls him down.

“Please, please--”

“All right. Fine.”

Levi fucks him. It’s been so long and it feels so good. With Eren on his back, and Levi thrusting between his legs, the difference in height is an advantage. Levi can reach his nipples, kissing and sucking and biting, and he jerks Eren off with one hand. Levi is merciful for once, and lets Eren come as soon as he’s ready, which only takes about four and a half seconds.

He keeps going. Eren doesn’t know how Levi has the stamina, but he goes from feeling mildly uncomfortable to slightly interested to _oh-god-fuck-me-harder_ again before Levi is even ready to come once. He’s almost shuddering with his second orgasm and Levi isn’t even close.

“Levi, Levi,” he pants, “I’m--”

“All right,” Levi kisses him, and thrusts harder, going very stiff, and Eren can tell he’s almost there. It’s thrilling. He loves to feel Levi like this, so close to losing all control. Levi shakes in his arms, gasping in pleasure, and Eren hugs him tight.

Levi buries his face in the pillows next to Eren’s head.

“I don’t know how you lasted so long,” Eren says, petting his hair.

“I jerked off this morning.”

“What? Why?”

“I should think that would be obvious.”

Eren laughed. “But why didn’t you--I would have helped!”

“That would have defeated the purpose.”

 

 

Levi needs a physical to get back on active duty, and that night Eren’s waiting for him in his room.

“Are you cleared?”

“Of course I am.”

Eren’s lying on the bed, and Levi sits down in the chair across from him. 

“The doctor changed his original diagnosis. He said it wasn’t paralysis, but nerve damage, and that in time I would have regained some feeling and I might have even started walking again. With a cane.” Levi smiles, a small, private, sardonic smile.

Eren propped his head against his hand. “Did you show him the book?”

“Yes. He’s going to make copies and distribute it. He said he’s never seen a recovery like mine, and he’ll do what he can to make sure it becomes standard treatment in such cases.”

Before Eren can reply Levi lifts up one of his hands and brings it to his mouth to kiss. “Eren,” he says, “thank you.”

“I didn’t,” Eren says, uncomfortably.

“You did. No one else could have done for me what you did. I owe you my life.”

He can’t breathe. “I--you’ve saved mine. So many times.”

Levi comes closer, and takes Eren in his arms. It feels different like this. They’re fully dressed. He can’t ever remember having a conversation with Levi and having it cross over into intimacy like this, not sex, but intimacy. Holding each other, touching each other, while talking or doing something else--like couples do. Again there is that impulse, very strong, to tell Levi he loves him. In this mood he doesn’t even think Levi would mock him. But he doesn’t think Levi would say it back either.

Levi’s touching him, and kissing him, very gently--the tips of his ears, his nose, his chin. 

_Oh,_ Eren thinks, _I might actually die. This might actually kill me._

“Eren--” Levi says, and Eren kisses him into silence. There’s only one thing Eren wants to hear right now, and it isn’t what Levi’s going to say. Better to just enjoy this than be disappointed by something he’s never been entitled to anyway.

“We should continue the treatment anyway,” Levi says after a while. “It can’t hurt, and it might help.”

“Oh yes,” Eren says earnestly, “I think so as well.” Apart from anything else, now that they’re doing it again, the massages (both of them slippery with oil, Eren straddling Levi from behind--) have led to some truly phenomenal sex.

 

 

There are times when it feels like nothing has changed since the accident. But these are few and far between. Everyone--the squad leaders, the other Corps members, his friends--treats him with greater respect now. The squad leaders treat him like he is one of their own. Levi doesn’t treat him like a child in public. He hasn’t changed towards Eren otherwise--he’s as sarcastic and quick to scold as ever--but he treats Eren the way he treats the other adults. The way he treats adults that Eren knows he cares about--even if the outside world would never be able to tell the difference.

People have stopped talking to Eren about Levi’s recovery--he never enjoyed the attention, and he always gave Levi all the credit. But he knows they view him differently because of it. He’s not just a useful monster anymore--he’s accomplished something because of his humanity. Not his Titan abilities.

There is a calm in the air that the veterans mistrust. Eren and Levi enjoy it while they can--long lazy days off are spent in Levi’s tower room, with the windows open to the fresh air. They alternate between reading and talking and making love. It’s the happiest Eren has ever been.

He knows it isn’t going to last. But he’s learned to enjoy the sweet days while he can. The newest trainees are oblivious. The old soldiers--of which he can say he is one...you get old fast in the Survey Corp, or you get dead--know something is coming. There is a certain buzzing going on amongst the squad leaders that Eren has learned to associate with intrigue.

 

 

It doesn’t seem right that it should be now. A week ago he was lying in bed with Levi, as if the summer would last forever. He’s barely seen the older man since that morning. 

This is humanity’s last stand against the Titans.

It seems impossible--after all these years--that it should come now. That it should be this morning. But they are here. They are ready to destroy humanity, kept at bay for now only by the newest generation of weapons the Corp has secretly developed.

It won’t keep them away forever. They’re going out to fight--all of them. The Survey Corp has massed here in this courtyard; they’ll be the vanguard. The Garrison and Military Police are just behind them. Eren can hear the buzz of thousands of voices.

There’s only one voice Eren wants to hear.

Earlier he watched, through the corner of his eye, Mikasa and Jean say their formal goodbyes before they separated to their squads. There is a pretty young blonde girl in the Corp that Armin has been seeing. Eren spotted them kissing on his way to the stables.

He hasn’t kissed or spoken to Levi in a week. Things have been too busy. Too much has happened at once. On Wednesday night Levi slipped into bed with him, for a few hours sleep. But he was gone before dawn, leaving Eren in his lonely bed as if he’d only dreamed Levi’s presence.

He has been preparing for this battle since his childhood. But he isn’t prepared to go into battle without saying goodbye to the person he loves most in the world. He had never thought the world would be that cruel.

For the past two days he’s been expecting Levi to waylay him--even just for a few minutes. Just a quick kiss, a farewell. Levi’s standing all the way at the other side of the square, on the steps next to Erwin and Hanji. He looks bored.

Eren’s not so lacking in all dignity that he’d try to catch Levi’s eye from here. He knows his duty. This is why he’s here. It’s what he’s been prepared for all his life. 

He tries to tell himself that his personal feelings don’t matter. This is the end, and this conflict is more important than anything else. 

Erwin has called for silence. He’s speaking now. This is it. He’s really going--he’s really going to leave without getting a chance to say goodbye.

 _Just remember how it was the last time,_ he tells himself sternly. _Before all this started. He cares for you. There just hasn’t been any time. Your personal feelings don’t matter._ If he repeats it enough times maybe it will start to feel true.

He tries hard to take control of himself. The grief is crushing. He doesn’t hear a single word of Erwin’s speech. But he’ll do his duty. He grips the reins of his horse in one hand, and rides a few steps to the left. Soon the call will come for the squads to assemble. He tries to look out at the gate, instead of at Levi.

 _Stop,_ he tells himself. _This is pointless._

People are drifting around him. Soon the call will come for everyone to assemble. There’s a quiet murmur of voices, occasional laughter. Someone comes up beside him.

“Eren,” Levi says in a low voice.

“Captain!”

Levi looks beautiful in the morning sunlight; it shines off his dark hair. He is as young and dazzling as ever. He looks quietly concerned for once, and all trace of his habitual disinterest and irony has gone. Levi’s close enough that Eren can smell him; soap, citrus peel, oiled leather, clean warm skin.

“Be safe, Eren,” he says softly, the words meant for Eren alone.

“Y-you too sir.”

He had been so hopelessly resigned that he can’t believe Levi is actually here.

Levi takes Eren’s reins in his right hand, and pulls his horse right up alongside Eren’s so that the two horses are side by side, but facing away from each other.

Eren’s mind is racing, but he can’t figure this out. It looks odd--in front of all these people--what can the Captain be thinking?

Levi has to turn in his seat to face Eren. He puts his left arm around Eren’s waist, holding him close so that they are touching from belly to chest.

He kisses Eren, slow and thorough. It’s as if he has all the time in the world. He’s infinitely tender. Eren’s arms come up to hold Levi around the waist as he kisses back. Time has slowed down...it could be minutes passing, or even hours. He can’t hear anything now, apart from the sound of their breathing. The world has faded away. 

Levi rests his head against Eren’s. He lifts up his hand to scrape two fingernails into the side of Eren’s neck, below his ear. 

“Remember,” he whispers to Eren, “this is mine.”

He releases Eren and rides back across the square, totally composed, as if nothing has happened. As soon as he reaches Erwin’s side Erwin gives the call for squads to assemble. 

Eren, in a daze, takes his place beside Mikasa. He’s not so far gone that he doesn’t feel trepidation, looking at her, but his gaze is defiant.

She smiles at him, and takes his hand.

“Eren,” she said. “You didn’t really think we didn’t know? We just wanted you to be happy.”

He laughs a little. He’s facing his own death, but the feeling is a familiar one. He and death haven’t been strangers, not for a long time.

“I am happy,” he tells her, and oddly enough he’s telling the truth.


	2. Chapter 2

The battle. Something out of a nightmare, that he never can properly remember afterwards. Bodies, Titans, blood, screams, pain. A series of images, terrifying but incomprehensible.

When he wakes up he’s alone.

He looks around wildly, not recognizing the room he’s in. It’s lusher than the Corp’s usual accommodations. He doesn’t think he’s ever lain between sheets this fine. Pushing them back he staggers to his feet, looking for his clothes.

He finds Mikasa in the hall, outside, just coming to look for him.

“Eren! You shouldn’t be up yet!”

“Mikasa--” he’s not about to put up with her mothering, but he hugs her tight. “Levi?”

“He’s fine.”

Eren releases a long breath.

“So’s Armin--everyone from our unit. You should really go back to bed.”

“No way.”

“Well,” linking her arm with his, “how about some food then?”

He follows her along the long marble passageways, stumbling only some of the time. “What is this place?”

“It’s a nobleman’s house...the Corp is using it. We’re in the Capital.”

“All the way in the interior?” He can’t help but be disappointed. He would have liked to recover far away from all this...at one of the Survey Corp’s camps, amongst his friends and comrades. He already has a bad feeling about what’s coming next. Parades? Parties? Being displayed like a prized animal?

Mikasa seems to guess his thoughts. She squeezes his arm. 

“At least it’s easily defensible,” she muttered. “There are...a lot of people who want to catch a glimpse of us.”

“So...this is it? We won?”

“We’ve taken back wall Maria,” she says. “We still need to eradicate the Titans between the two walls. We’ve defeated the intelligent Titans...for now. There may still be more, outside Maria.”

“So…” he said slowly. “This isn’t really the end, like we thought.”

She presses him close again, and leads him into the dining room. It’s intimidatingly large, and feels uncomfortable and cold after the casual messes used in the Survey Corps.

The room is very full; it must be lunch time. For a minute he just allows himself to look around, soaking up the faces of his friends. Too many are missing, but it could be worse. It could always be worse, he supposes grimly.

Levi is sitting with Hanji and Erwin. He doesn’t do more than glance in Eren’s direction however, and Eren is left feeling like he’s been punched in the gut.

“Come on,” Mikasa says. She doesn’t seem to notice.

 

It’s worse than he feared. In this strange interlude while the survivors of the last battle recover from their wounds, many treats have been organized by the elite of the city for their amusement.

Eren refuses to take part in the parades, using the excuse that he still feels unwell, but token appearances at the parties are mandatory.

Even Erwin and Hanji are against him, saying that the appearance of cooperation is useful.

Levi doesn’t come to him.

At first Eren is upset; as time passes time he begins to grow angry. How could Levi acknowledge him like that--publicly!--and then reject him like this! They’ve both survived--and they’ve shown themselves to the world--they’ve defeated the Titans, or at least pushed them back.

It’s everything he’s wanted, and yet he’s unhappier than ever. 

After a night spent dancing with giggling debutantes, and a morning being Erwin’s showpiece in meetings with government officials, he pleads exhaustion and is allowed to return to his room for the rest of the day.

It still feels odd--so much larger and more luxurious than any room he’s ever stayed in. The ceilings are high, with large windows you can see the sky through. There is a private bathroom with hot running water. The chairs are made of leather and polished wood, and books line the shelves.

He slipped off his boots and threw himself on the bed. From here at least he can see slivers of the sky. Their borrowed mansion is at one of the highest points of the city, and watching the clouds roll past is a better amusement than most of what the city has to offer.

The door opens. 

“Levi!”

He sits up and Levi comes to him; too harsh, too aggressive, but he doesn’t care. If Levi wants to eat him alive that’s fine by him. He returns the kisses more tenderly than they are given to him, too glad of Levi’s presence, here, to be resentful.

“Well,” Levi says, an odd gleam in his eye. He’s looming over Even, frightening shadows darkening his face. “You’re a hero now. You can have anyone you want. Any boy or girl you want.”

It’s such an odd thing to say--so out of character--that he isn’t sure how to respond. “But,” he says puzzled, “you’re a hero, too, Levi, you could have anyone you wanted too--”

Levi lets him go abruptly, and he drops back to the bed with a muffled “Oomf!” whacking his head against the headboard. “Ow.”

His brain is still trying to keep up with events, “So it’s like that, then. Fine,” Levi has finished speaking, but the words seem to hang in the air somehow; now he’s leaving.

“Levi, wait!” he says. He still has no idea what’s going on, or what’s the matter, or where this strange mood of Levi’s has come from, but he’s finally picked up on the fact that something’s dangerously wrong.

 _Idiot,_ he curses himself. He’s never been clever, but he shouldn’t be this fucking stupid. Even though they were Levi’s words, he shouldn’t have repeated them back to him. 

By now Eren’s leaped from the bed and caught Levi up by the door, wrapping his arms around him from behind. He doesn’t have a chance in hell of keeping the smaller man here if he really wants to go--Levi can knock him on his ass faster than anyone he’s ever met.

But for now at least Levi’s staying put, even if he is as stiff as a corpse in Eren’s arms.

 _All right,_ Eren says to himself nervously. _Figure this out, because this feels like a precipice; if we let go now, we could lose him forever._

_But what the hell’s his problem? What does he want from me? He’s the one that’s been ignoring me for a week...after that scene before the battle--_

_All right, all right, forget that. If the pieces don’t fit it’s because they’re not the right pieces. That’s what Armin says. So what are the right pieces? He’s always been there for me when I really needed him--he’s never really let me down. Whenever I’ve been sick or ill or injured or in danger he’s always been there. So he does care. He has to. So why--_

And maybe that’s the point Eren has his epiphany. Maybe it’s the point he realizes he’s been looking at the map upside down and backwards for a long time. For years maybe. Levi didn’t say goodbye to him on the field, in front of the entire Survey Corp, because he didn’t have any other option. If he’d really wanted to he could have found a quiet moment at any point that week. His hand wasn’t forced.

He had been forcing Eren’s hand.

He publicly acknowledged him--claimed him--on purpose. That was planned. He’d played his last card--and all this week he’s been waiting for Eren to play his. He’s always told himself Levi’s not built for romance. Well, apparently Levi’s the most romantic fucking person in the world.

Levi hasn’t been the one rejecting him. He’s the one that’s been rejecting Levi. 

“Levi,” he says. He has no idea how to fix this. “You know I’m a fucking idiot, right?”

Levi relaxes. Marginally. Eren can almost feel the reluctant smile.

He lowers his head, so that it’s right next to Levi’s ear. He hasn’t shaved today, and he knows Levi likes the stubble scratching him. It’s one of those little secret things that he can tell Levi likes, even when he complains about it out loud. So he scrapes the side of Levi’s face now, and his neck, with his cheek.

Levi shivers. Just a little tiny bit. But he knows he’s on the right track.

“I guess you’re a lot braver than I am,” he said softly. “You’re the one that took all the risks. I never realized.”

“I thought we’d both be dead after the last battle, I didn’t expect there to be any consequences. That’s not exactly brave.” The way Levi says it is nasty, but beneath the bravado Eren can hear the real hurt and insecurity. He doesn’t know how he’s missed it before.

“What if I said,” Eren asks, quietly, “‘this is mine?’ Like you always say to me…”

He’s never said anything even remotely like that to Levi, he realizes. Levi’s always been the generous one.

“Try it,” Levi says, at his most threatening. It’s a voice that would have terrified Eren, and had him pissing his pants when he was fifteen. But he’s not fifteen anymore.

He lowers his face to the side of Levi’s neck, scraping the little rough hairs on his cheek all along the sensitive skin there, following it with kisses, then biting hard enough to hurt.

“This is mine,” he whispers in Levi's ear. “You are mine. You belong to me.”

There. It’s a step farther--maybe even a whole league farther--than either of them’s been willing to go before, but apparently it was the right thing to say because Levi is now a fucking puddle in his arms, and if he let go now Levi would be on the floor.

For once in his life he doesn’t let Levi charge ahead; he’s the one who pushes. He’s the demanding one, he’s the one taking control, and as he kisses Levi and Levi moans in his arms he knows he’s finally doing the right fucking thing.

He doesn’t know why it’s taken him so long to realize--that Levi just wants the same thing he does. To be loved. To be taken care of. But it’s blindingly obvious now.

He half carries Levi to the bed, and undresses him. He’s always admired Levi’s body--he’s thicker under his clothes than you would think. Decades of training with the maneuver gear have left him powerfully built. For the first time in his life Eren lets himself do what he’s always wanted to do--go slow over that body, kissing every ridge and every muscle, pulling those heavy thighs tight around his waist.

 _I can do whatever I want,_ Eren thinks, and he feels drunk with power. Levi’s never been in such a weirdly compliant mood. But Eren takes all his cues from him; he uses what he’s learned over the years to figure out how to give Levi what he wants, without asking. And he knows what Levi really wants right now is just to be comforted--to be safe. To feel loved. _I can do that,_ Eren thinks, kissing him sweetly.

He’s never fucked Levi. Eren’s never asked and Levi’s never offered. But he knows it’s happening tonight; he knows without asking and without needing to ask that this is what they both want.

The elegant bathroom is at least well-stocked with every kind of oil and unguent you could want; it doesn’t take Eren long to find something that will do the trick. He’s careful when he touches Levi. He knows that this is something Levi hasn’t done in a long time--though he suspects he’s done it at some point, given how well he seems to understand it when he’s doing it to Eren. He has no intention of making it unpleasant, though, and he knows Levi well enough to know he won’t give any sign if he’s in pain. 

So he’s slow, and careful, and for once Levi’s not yelling commands or directions at him. He seems perfectly comfortable being in Eren’s hands, which Eren tries too hard not to think about, because it’s a little terrifying.

When he’s finally inside though--

“Ungh--”

“Good, huh?” Levi asks, darkly amused. He’s drawn up one knee, to wrap his leg loosely over the back of Eren’s thighs.

It gives Eren the confidence to move, to say, “Tell me what you want. This is as far as the map goes.”

Levi chuckles warmly. “You’re doing fine.”

He doesn’t know if they’ve ever been so honest with each other. 

It feels good, physically--okay it feels amazing--but the best sex is really just a proxy for closeness. And they’ve never been more intimate.

He’s pushing harder now, without even noticing, and Levi’s moaning with every thrust, arched up beneath him.

“I’m really--” he tries to say, breathless, “Are you--”

He can feel Levi’s body tightening around him, god. It’s all the encouragement he needs. He pushes forward, towards sweet, blissful release, god, he can feel Levi shivering beneath him and it’s the best thing in the _world._

Afterwards when they’re lying all over each other he strokes Levi’s hair, and says, “Now I really don’t know know where you get the stamina.”

Levi laughs--one of his rare, truly genuine laughs.

“Didn’t you know I cared about you?”

“Yes, of course,” Levi said. “How could I not? You never initiated yourself, you never said anything, you would just lie there during sex as if I was--”

“Don’t,” Eren said, pained. “You’re twisting everything around. Levi, you terrify me.”

“Thank you!”

“I mean...I didn’t dare to ask you for more than you were willing to give me. I was afraid if I did you wouldn’t want to continue.”

Levi looks puzzled, and genuinely hurt. “What did I ever do to make you feel that way?”

“Nothing,” Eren said sadly. “It was just my own feelings...my inexperience. I misjudged everything.”

“What do you mean,” Levi said slowly. “Inexperience?”

Eren blushed and didn’t reply.

“For god’s sake, Jaeger. Don’t tell me you were a virgin!”

Silence.

Levi groaned and covered his face with his hands. “You have got to be kidding me. You were twenty for fuck’s sake! Do you know what the average lifespan of a Survey Corp member is? You should have been out fucking anything that moved! Why do you think I waited so long to--”

Levi made a long, frustrated noise.

“Not many people want to fuck a monster,” Eren replied quietly.

“Don’t be an idiot.”

Eren sighed. “I’m not exaggerating.”

“You aren’t a monster. I hope you’re not still thinking about that all these years later.”

No response.

“God, you’re a masochist. Eren, listen to me. You’re a good man. I’m sorry.”

“For what?” Eren asked, almost stupefied by the apology.

“Take your pick,” Levi muttered, seemingly to himself, and then kissed Eren soundly. “I should have been kinder to you.”

Eren smiled faintly, the tips of his ears blushing. “You couldn’t have been, unless maybe you’d put me out of my misery five years earlier.”

“When you were a scrawny kid? Ugh! Disgusting.”

“I did wonder why it was that particular moment, over any other,” Eren teased him, wrapping his arms around Levi’s waist. 

“The shoulders.”

“What?” Eren laughed.

“It was that summer you were finally starting to fill out--” Levi said, and Eren laughed harder.

“Poor me,” he whispered, “if only I’d known, Levi, you don’t know how many push ups I would have done for you--”

A short tussle followed, in which Levi emerged the clear victor, and Eren, lying on his stomach with the wind knocked out of him, wondered if Levi could possibly be induced to go another round.

“Do you remember,” he asked, when he could breathe again, “there was one night--it was the first time you ever came to my room--”

“Yes,” Levi said instantly, surprising him. He really is going to have to rethink his entire worldview if it turns out all these little moments have meant as much to Levi as they have to him.

“Well--I always wondered. How did you know? You seemed--you knew I was upset. But you hadn’t seen me, so…”

“Hanji told me,” Levi replied calmly.

“W-what?” Eren said, blinking at him.

“She came up to me in the mess and said pointedly that you were upset.”

“But--but she couldn’t have known about--”

“Of course she did.”

Eren gaped at him. 

Levi rolled his eyes. “Eren, half the squad knew about us. I’m amazed you never realized.”

“But she said--earlier that night she said--”

“Hmm?”

“Well she told me something--in a roundabout way--that made me think--that reassured me. About some things. It couldn’t have been on purpose!”

“I suppose you mean about me. Of course it was on purpose.”

“But--”

“What?” Levi demanded, growing impatient.

“But I never thought Hanji could be capable of that kind of subtlety!” Eren complained, and for the second time that evening he hears Levi’s rare, delighted laugh.

When the door opened sometime later they were both under the covers; Levi had tipped Eren’s head back and was trailing slow, languid kisses across his neck and collarbone.

Levi glanced back. “For god’s sake, Erwin, go jump in front of a carriage. I’m busy.”

“C-commander!” Eren said, ducking embarrassed behind Levi.

“I’m very sorry to intrude, Eren,” Erwin said, with a polite smile that showed his white teeth. He sat down in a chair on the other side of the room. “Levi, you’re twenty minutes late for our meeting.”

“I’ll come to your office,” Levi said between gritted teeth, “In an hour. Now fuck off before I murder you and leave your corpse as a warning to the unwary who don’t _fucking knock.”_

“There is such a thing as a lock,” Erwin replied primly, getting to his feet. 

“An hour then. Don’t be late, or I’ll ask Hanji to come looking for you. Excuse me again Eren, please forgive the imposition,” he said, bowing slightly on his way out.

When he was gone Eren looked at Levi in real horror. 

“Oh, stop it. He’s known for a long time too.”

Levi got up from the bed and locked the door, and then for good measure shoved a chair underneath the knob.


End file.
